Episode 5: Want to be Free?

(Starts with ominous rumble, heart beat, throbbing. sound intesnies drawn with force to the moment)

"This doesn't have to be your life. I'm here to offer you something. Something, special-special. My associates would like to buy off your life debt, Kal. Do you want to be free?" Vivek looks at me, or rather through me. It sends curling chills down my spine and turns my blood to ice.

"And I was born an Organic," I choke, sounding lamer than I intended. Viveks expression doesn't change. Skin and bones. Flesh pale and clammy. Eyes, hidden behind glasses that turn his head into a skull. I might as well be looking at death itself. The mans long and alien fingers pull a neural cig from his pockets, and he stabs into his neck, dazzeling his senses with artifical nicotine.

"These offers don't come often, Kal."

"Why would you want to pay of my life debt? I'm not no whore, thank you—who are your associates—"

"Kal, Kal. . . One question at a time. We are interested in your, unique bioupgrades. I do not believe in providence but you are a godsend if there ever was one."

"So you need me to do something." My eyes narrow and I cut to the chase. "What?"

"I'm not at liberty to say, Kal. Not until our offer."

"Then I wont say yes. I've heard of things like this. I'm not gonna end up as some living sex toy. Not happening bro. You're gonna tell me."

Vivek neither smiles nor shifts. A minute passes and then two. His placid gaze rummaging through my soul. I shift. My hands clench my pants and my foot begins to tap. I realize it and stop, only to have my other foot begin its rap-a-tapping. Five minutes turn to ten.

(Clock ticking)

"Who's your associate?" I ask.

"Classified."

"What the shit am I supposed to go on then!" (Kal stands and walks to the door and opens it) "You must think I'm chromed in the dome bro."

"Kal," Vivek says rising, (footsteps approach, his voice comes across the room) "have you heard of faith?"

(Kal laughs) Organics. . . No Ghoul believe in that. That's a luxury we don't have. I'm going to the bathroom."

"Than you and my associates have soemthing in common, (rummages in pocket). "We both know you're not coming back. Here is my card, in case you change your mind." He holds out a slivered, card sized, ARK. Immediatly my nuerolink interacts with the alien metal and the mans contact uploads into my mind.

"Good day, Kal. We will talk soon."

(Vivek leaves, music building transitons and ends with a toilet flushing, opens stall door)

Vivek: (Echoey) Do you want to be free

"Who doesn't. (Fosset turns on)

"Kal, long time no see bro!" I turn a smile coming to my face at the familiar voice. In comes Guns, the old janitor, with biceps mods that would put Mr. Universe to shame. Mop in hand, bucket in tow, he starts cleaning the floors. Nobody really knows why Virdi Inc. keeps him on payroll. But amidst an army of drone cleaners he is the sole, organic survivor. Personally, I think he just likes having something to do, and no one actually knows he doesn't work there. All the same I greet my friend with a smile.

"Woo buddy! My smell isn't what it used to be, but that is a proper stink."

"It wasn't me," I say, flushing red—it was one hundred percent me.

"If you say. Who were you talking to in here?"

"Uh, just myself (nervous laugh).

"Hmm. Well, I do that often. Say you see that new game. Forsook Three? Stuff looks good."

"Honestly, its the best one of the series. It follows—"

Perf-perf! My neice is looking for something to do. She's between work and could use some cheerin, bro." Stiffening, the old mans face turns slack, and for an instant his eyes shimmer. And then is gone. "There, bought and sent. Digi gift wrap and all. Thanks, Kal."

"Ah think nothing of it." Guns freezes, cocking his head and giving me a peculiar sideways look.

"I said thanks, Kal. Of course I think something of it. You just gavean old man something to make his family happy."

I start to say something and then shrug.

"Hows training? You alright?"

I mean to say, yes I am, but that isn't what comes out. "Guns," I say. "I'm in love."

"With Emmie."

"I think I'm going to ask her to marry me."

For a moment, Guns looks like he is about to hug me, crushing me between his arms. But he smiles. Mirthfully knowing.

"You'd be a fool not to. Now thats a once in a lifetime oppertunity, Kal," he say's returning to his mopping.

My hands clench, relax, clench, relax, and my lungs fill to the brim with air. "You're right," I smile. "What was I thinking!"

"Not clearly, see ya round bro. And thanks again."

(Door opens, transition soundscape, Kal goes through practice sound effects)

Vivek: (Echoey) Do you want to be free?

Meg: Welcome home, Kal, your cortisol level inidcate homeostasi. Good. Your altitude settings, are set to 17,500 feet. Supper is prepping in the oven and will be ready in approximately, 45 minutes. You have recieved no mail today. Your social following has declined by 1.3k followers. You have, 1 missed call, and, 1 voicemail. Uploading to your neurolink now.

"Thanks Meg."

(Sound effect of neurolink)

Emmie: Kal, (sniff, deep breath). Kal. It's over. Were over. You're a Ghoul, I'm an Organic. It would never work. . . if we had kids, think about the life debt they would owe. (Sniff, sniff) Da was right. There never was a future for us. (Deep breath) Kal (long pause, as if she wants to say something) Don't contact me.

Meg: You have dropped your glass. I will deploy the Cleaning Task. Kal, it would seem your cortisol is spiking.Your oxygen consumption has increase dramitaclly. Perhaps you should sit. It would be prudent—

"Call Emmy!" I shout. Meg whirs to life, deploying the cleaning task, no longer harrasing me, but dialing the woman of my dreams. I can barely understand it. Just the other day—our dreams—was it all lie. The phones buzzes. Nothing. I leave a voice mail (Over the top Its Kal, what the shit Emmy? What do you mean. Call me back). I try again. Nothing. Hours tick by leaving me to stew in the filth of my racing anxiety's. I call four more times ten, ten thirty, midnight, one a.m. (You can't shitting do this to us!) Between the tears, flashes of anger, and fear I try once more, only to hear (The user you hae contactted has blocked you. Two more calls and you will be liable for charges of harrasment. Have a good day).

((OVER TOP OF THE PREVIOUS LINE - Sfx of things getting kicked. "The shit! F me, f you, break into tears that fade. . .))

Its only hours later in the moments before the dawn that I remeber:

Vivek: (Echoey) Do you want to be free?

(Phone dials, music pauses as the phone answer. . . silence. . .)

Vivek: Hello, Kal.

(Music returns full force)

(Dials phone number- Vivek answers- Hello. . .)